


Liquid Courage

by DarthDre



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Awkward Romance, F/M, Fluff, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-15
Updated: 2017-08-16
Packaged: 2018-12-15 16:18:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11809656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarthDre/pseuds/DarthDre
Summary: Jon, Davos, Tyrion, Jorah, and Greyworm get drunk and talk about Dany and Missandei. A drunken kiss occurs without Jon remembering.This work is part of the Fortnight of Jonerys challenge happening on Tumblr by https://bombgirlpow.tumblr.com/.The drabble/prompt challenge was suggested by Suggested by: @mikimiska113 (via Tumblr)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> enjoy and let me know what you think! <3

"Now, now Greyworm, don't take it as an insult," Tyrion hiccupped, making Jon smirk. He had been around the dwarf of Casterly Rock a few times before, but he had never seen him inebriated. Jon's eyes went from Tyrion to Greyworm, who was still as stoic as ever.

"Missandei is beautiful woman, I am happy when I am with her," Greyworm admitted, "And that is all I will say."

"I must say, she is indeed a very bright young woman, your Queen, and you, are lucky to have her," Davos complimented, still in the same seat, still in the same position. You could not tell he was drunk, unless you were there to witness the beginning of it.

"I agree," Jon said.

Greyworm nodded at them all. Trying to hide the smirk that was creeping up on his face.

"And what about our beloved Queen?" Tyrion added.

Jon saw everyone in the room tense; Tyrion, he learned, had a knack for making people uncomfortable. He supposed it was his way of trying to figure out everyones feelings or secrets.

Tyrion looked at each of them expectantly, his eyes fell on Jorah and then, to himself. Jon was petrified that he took a large drink from his cup.

Thankfully, Greyworm stepped in, "Our Queen is--"

"Yes, yes, our Queen is a savior. Our Queen is loved by her people; what I want to know is what do you think of her as a person?"

Nobody said anything. Greyworm breathed deeply, no doubt annoyed because everyone knew what he thought of the Queen; he believed in her.

Jon looked to Davos, who shrugged and started, "She is a beautiful woman.

Davos then looked back at Jon, knowingly, "She has a good heart."

Tyrion seemed to have caught on to the silent exchange, "And what does our guest, The King in the North, think of the Mother of Dragons?"

Jon took another large drink from his cup, draining it. He could feel the heat in his face and his senses start to dull. He was drunk.

"She has a good heart," Jon answered, blankly.

"Yes, your hand has mentioned that," Tyrion pointed out, annoyed while grabbing the jug of wine and refilling Jon's cup for him, "Do not hold out on us, King Snow. We know that Greyworm is loyal to his Queen, we know that I believe in her, we know that Ser Davos believes she has a good heart, and as for Ser Jorah," he paused, "We all know he is irrevocably in love with her."

Jon was starting to feel very uncomfortable about the topic, to try to avoid answering the question, he finished his cup in three gulps. He didn't mean to, but he glared at Jorah for a few seconds. He quickly looked away before anyone could notice, but Tyrion noticed.

And he smiled at him, "That's quite all right if you don't want to answer, King Snow."

"I need to go," Jon said, simply. Emotionless.

He stumbled his way out of the Hand's chambers. His legs making their way to his own, to try to sleep away the embarrassment of his awkwardness.

_What do you think of the Queen?_

She was gorgeous; as beautiful as the snows that fell around Winterfell in the cold winters. As powerful as the beasts she called her children. As gentle as the soft wind that blew through the leaves of the Wierwood tree.

He opened the door to what he thought was his chambers, the wine finally kicking completely in and making his face warm. His mind felt foggy. He was confused when he saw her there; observing the table of Westeros. Her eyes looked up from the table to meet his own, staring intensely at her "Jon Snow, are you all right?"

"Your Grace," he breathed, "I apologize, I was looking for my chambers, and- I ended up here."

She smiled, softly. He could feel his heart flutter for a few moments. She motioned for him to go closer, and he did. They stood together, side by side in the front of the table. The wind blowing the cool ocean breeze into the stony room. The sound of crashing waves filled his ears rhythmically.

She motioned her hand towards Winterfell, "Did you like it there?"

"I liked it fine, I suppose," Jon answered, "I remember growing up there; I felt so out of place. Robb made it feel like home, though. He was a great man, and a better brother."

Jon could feel the sorrow coming, "The last time I ever saw him, I was leaving to the Night's Watch. I remember the way he smiled at me. And I remember the way it felt to have a brother that didn't care that I was a bastard."

He saw Daenerys move closer to him, "You miss him?"

Jon sighed, and looked straight into her beautiful blue eyes, "Everyday."

"My brother Viserys was stupid, I can honestly say I don't miss him. But, I never knew my brother, Rhaegar. What I heard was that he loved to sing to the people in King's Landing," she shared, walking towards the open window of the room. Staring out at the dark sea.

Jon felt the palms of his hands start sweating when she turned to look at him. Awkwardly, he sympathized, "I'm sorry about your brothers."

She chuckled, "You don't have to be. But I am sorry for what happened to yours, and your family."

Jon didn't know what to do, or what to say. He could feel his eyes lock on to hers, and no matter how hard he tried to look away, he found himself staring harder. He had an irrational urge to touch her, softly. He walked towards her and gently grabbed her hand, giving it a tiny squeeze.

His vision was starting to get darker. The wine was now in his bloodstream and with every second he stood there, it became difficult to keep his composure, "I should be going, Your Grace."

He turned, abruptly, feeling the darkness coming in and vaguely hearing her voice say something before all went black.

 

* * *

 

Jon's head throbbed painfully. He was not in the best mood; that damned Tyrion Lannister and his drinking games. He promised himself that would be the last time he would share a drink with him or allow himself to be roped into another gathering that involved heavy drinking and awkward questions.

Jon finished getting dressed when he heard the small knock on the door, "Come in."

To his surprise, it was Daenerys, "Good morning, Jon Snow."

"Your Grace, I wasn't expecting you," he admitted, baffled, "I wasn't expecting anyone, actually."

She smiled, walking towards him, "How are you feeling?"

"I feel like my head was dragged through all the steps of Dragonstone," he chuckled, and she laughed, softly, "I don't even remember how I got to my chambers last night."

He saw the sudden change in her demeanor, she was confused, "You don't remember anything at all from last night?"

"I-- I remember seeing you, in the war room, and then, nothing," he admitted, uncomfortably.

"You don't recall what you did?" She asked, he could sense frustration building in her tone.

He sighed, worried, before he answered, "I'm sorry if I did anything to offend you or said anything that bothered you."

"Do I need to remind you of your actions, Jon Snow?" Her tone was deadly now.

That was it. She was going to feed him to her dragons. He was going to be dragon dinner. A pile of dragon shit once they've finished digesting him.

She moved closer to him now; but he stood his ground. Her eyes were locked onto his and he was shook. It wasn't that he feared her, it was that being so close in proximity to her made him feel... something. He could smell the faint scent of ocean on her; and it was divine.

"This is what you did," she said.

Then suddenly, he tasted her lips on his. Sweet and as soft as the clouds. It was quick and swift. A peck, almost.

He was shocked, and extremely mortified. He could feel his cheeks get hot. He closed his eyes and hung his head. When he finally looked up, she was still there, smirking with amusement.

She liked the kiss.

Boldly, he moved in and grabbed her face in his hands; pressing his lips hard against hers. He was filled with a primal need, a longing that he knew was churning in his heart since the moment he laid eyes on her. Their tongues danced in synchrony together. His kissing turned fervent when she pulled him closer to her.

He felt his heart soar that when it was over, he held her face in his hands, pressing his forehead against hers. Savoring the moment, looking deep into her eyes.

“You need to get drunk more often, King Snow,” she teased, “I was wondering when you would do that.”

Jon smiled, “I suppose I just needed a little liquid courage.”


	2. Bonding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daenerys' point of view; what exactly did happen when Jon Snow blacked out?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Per request, I went ahead and added Dany's POV on Jon's blackout. There is a ton of dialogue, I wanted them to actually connect with words as well. So, hopefully its up to standards and I hope you all love it. 
> 
> Also; there is a small bonus entry in the end. :)
> 
> Let me know what you think!

_Say something, you idiot._

But she couldn’t, her eyes just followed him as he reached the door. He was drunk.

She knew it, and he knew it. She figured that’s probably why he wanted to leave. Only, Daenerys didn’t want him to leave.

“Wait, Jon Snow,” she called after him, “Stay awhile longer.”

His dark eyes turned to meet hers, “I wouldn’t want to impose, Your Grace.”

Daenerys scoffed, “Do I need to threaten your life so you can sit with me?”

Jon breathed in deeply, his face was flushed, “No, Your Grace.”

“Sit,” she ordered, grabbing the jug of wine, pouring herself and Jon a chalice.

“Tell me more about yourself, Jon Snow,” she said.

“I wouldn’t know where to start,” he admitted.

She handed him the chalice, she could sense his hesitation, but he took it without complaint and took a drink as she did, “Tell me about a time when you were at your happiest.”

Jon raised his eyebrows, “That’s a tall order.”

She couldn’t help but smirk, “I don’t suppose you were always brooding in Winterfell, were you?”

Jon smiled, actually smiled. The sight made her warm inside, he had a beautiful smile, “I was always brooding. They called me Brood Snow for a time.”

Daenerys laughed, “Really?”

“No, not really,” he said, chuckling.

“Jon Snow tells jokes,” Daenerys teased, taking a drink from her chalice, “Who would have known? But, you still haven’t told me when you were happiest.”

Jon took a gulp from his chalice, “You first.”

“That’s not how this works, Jon Snow,” she informed.

“Probably not, but it would give me time to think of something,” he said.

Daenerys sighed, “Very well, then. But you have to go after me.”

He leaned forward, waiting for her to speak.

“The day I finally left Mereen and came to Dragonstone,” she said, plainly.

Jon’s eyes were still on her, skeptical, “That’s it?”

She laughed, “It’s the one time I felt happy, and nothing bad came from it after. The other times… well—they were followed by tragedy and despair.”

“I know a thing or two about those,” Jon uttered.

Daenerys watched him slip into a somber mood, she quickly changed the subject, “I heard you have sisters.”

Jon nodded, “Two, Sansa and Arya.”

“Tell me about them,” Daenerys pressed, trying to distract him from his own mind.

He rubbed his face, “They’re both something, I’ll tell you that. Sansa is every mother’s dream come true, a proper lady with a sharp mind. Arya, on the other hand, she is every mother’s nightmare.”

He chuckled, “I remember one time; Robb, Theon and I went hunting for stags in the forest. We had a competition going on who would get the first kill and how many arrows they would use to bring down a fully grown male stag. Robb and I were great with the sword, Theon was great with a bow. So, naturally, Theon was going on about how we would have to pay for his next visit to the brothel because he was going to win.”

Daenerys was listening intently now, he was so immersed in his memory that she couldn’t help but admire every inch of him, “We found one. A stag. He was beautiful. Strong. We all eyed him and drew our bows, all of us firing an arrow each into the stag’s body. But, a fourth arrow found its way into the stags eye. And he dropped dead. Just like that. My sister was ten when she made that kill.”

Daenerys couldn’t help but feel amazed by the story, “She sounds like quite a girl.”

Jon was smiling, reliving the memory.

They heard the screeching of the dragons in the sky. Their echoes bounced off the sea and into the room.

Her eyes met Jon’s and he asked, “Why do you call yourself their mother?”

She tilted her head, taken aback by the question.

“I meant no offense, Your Grace, I am just having a hard time figuring out how they came back into being,” he explained.

She took a long drink from her chalice and started, “They were petrified dragon eggs, a gift for my marriage to Khal Drogo. When he died, we built him a pyre and I set the eggs with his body. I walked into the flames and I was not harmed. In the morning, the petrified dragon eggs hatched. And thus, they were born.”

“But, that doesn’t really explain why you call yourself their mother,” he pointed.

Daenerys admired his boldness that she was not offended but the statement. Instead, she offered insight, “I care for them, I trained them. Isn’t that what a mother does for her children?”

Jon nodded and took another large gulp from his chalice, emptying it. She offered him more, and he accepted. He was quiet as she poured the wine for him, “Lord Tyrion tells me you have a direwolf.”

She set the jug down and stood near the open window.

“I do,” Jon said, “Ghost, is his name.”

“Where is he?”

“At Winterfell,” he answered, “I wasn’t sure I wanted to risk his life by bringing him. I don’t think I’d take it well if your dragons burnt him to a crisp.”

Daenerys chuckled, “I suppose you know about bonding with creatures most people would fear.”

“Never saw it that way,” he breathed, “But now that you mention it, I suppose it makes sense.”

They were quiet for a moment. Just listening to the sound of the waves crashing against the stones, the dragons screeching in the sky and the wind howling, making strange noises as it found it’s way through the crevices in the castle.

“Have you ever been in love, Your Grace?”

Daenerys held her breath. That question was extremely bold. The shock was apparent on her face; but he didn’t try to apologize for the question. He sat there watching her, observing her. His eyes did not waver, not once. His gaze was steady and his body seemed relaxed. He coolly took a gulp from his chalice, waiting for her answer.

She turned to face the open sea, remembering Drogo, “Once. A long time ago.”

“Your husband?”

She nodded, “Yes. I did not love him right away. I learned to love him; and I loved him dearly. He was strong. Protective and fierce. And I couldn’t save him.”

She turned to face him, “What about you, Jon Snow? Were you ever in love?”

“Yes,” he answered. She faced him, waiting for the rest to come out, “She was wild. Free. And I knew I loved her the moment I kissed her.”

“What happened to her?”

Jon finished his chalice in one gulp and poured himself another, “She died. In my arms.”

“I’m sorry,” Daenerys sympathized.

“Me too,” Jon murmured.

They were silent for another moment. Daenerys turned to face the sea again, trying to regain her composure. She never liked to talk about Drogo; not with Missandei, Jorah or Tyrion. Yet, here she was, talking about the man she had to kill, that man that she loved, with another man whom she felt something for.

It was strange, they both lost important people in their lives. And it was eerie how she felt connected to him, to this man that she barely knew.

She heard the chair scape against the stone floor, and the footsteps coming towards her. She looked in time to see Jon swaying, like he couldn’t stay up. She strode towards him and helped him keep his balance.

“I think you’ve had too much to drink,” Daenerys said, amused.

“I think so too,” Jon said, hiccupping, “This is very embarrassing.”

“No, I think its nice,” Daenerys assured him, as he leaned against the stone wall trying to keep his balance, “There’s too much going on, so much weight we have to carry. There’s nothing wrong with letting go every now and then.”

She made her way back to the window, staring out. She was suddenly aware that his eyes were on her, she turned to see him gazing at her, “What?”

“I think I can tell you now; the happiest I’ve ever been,” he blurted. He stood up straight, composing himself and slowly making his way towards her. He was very close to her. A few inches and their bodies would be touching.

She swallowed, softly, trying to conceal her nervousness. She felt anxious being around him. It was the way he was looking at her, like she was something not from this world, “Well, go on and tell me, then.”

He closed the small distance between them and gently grabbed her hands. He wrapped his around them, and rubbed her palms, carefully. His stare never faltered, and she suddenly felt his right hand on her cheek. He slowly leaned in; she felt his warm breath on her lips and her heart was beating fast. Her breathing became shallow, she could feel her cheeks getting warm.

Then he finally pressed his lips onto hers. It was slow, and sweet. His lips tasted of wine; but it didn’t bother her. He daringly slipped his tongue into her mouth and began massaging hers. She pulled him closer and set her arms around his neck, while he ran his hands through her hair.

After what seemed like an eternity, he stopped and whispered, “I’ve been wanting to do that for the longest time.”

Daenerys laughed quietly, “I’ve been wishing you would do that.”

“I could keep going, if you’d like,” he offered, a smile on his face.

“As much as I appreciate the offer,” she started, pulling away from him, “You are very drunk right now, and you need to get some sleep.”

He sighed and she confidently said, “If you still feel like kissing me tomorrow, however, you are free to.”

“You don’t think I will,” he conveyed.

She smiled, motioning for him to put his arms around her. He did so, as she put her arms around his waist, walking towards the door and guiding him on the long walk to his chambers, she admitted, “I hope you will.”

 

* * *

 

 

**Tyrion's POV**  

“I think I may have embarrassed him,” Tyrion revealed, snickering.

“No more than you’ve embarrassed me,” Jorah disclosed.

Tyrion breathed and leaned forward in his chair, “It was an honest question. We are all amongst friends here; I was simply curious to see what the King in the North has to say about our Queen.”

“He say she was a good person,” Greyworm presumed.

“No, he said the same thing Davos did, that ‘she has a good heart’,” Tyrion said, doing his best to mock the tone of Jon’s voice.

“He’s an awkward man,” Jorah pointed, “Wouldn’t you agree?”

“Do I detect a hint of jealousy, Jorah?” Tyrion teased.

Jorah stared daggers at Tyrion, warning him not to overstep his boundaries. Tyrion got the message and eased off, turning his attention to Davos, “Ser Davos—“

“He’s attracted to her,” Davos said, simply and to the point.

“Well,” Tyrion whistled, he turned to Jorah, “Looks like you’ve got some competition.”

“And she’s attracted to him,” he added.

Tyrion’s mouth fell open, “How did—“

“I’ve been around long enough to know when two people are attracted to each other. Their tension can be seen from here to King’s Landing,” Davos said, impatiently. Like it was extremely obvious.

They were all quiet for a moment.

“He is too—sad,” Greyworm pointed.

The room erupted in laughter, and Davos said, “I will admit, the King in the North is not known for being the happiest, prancing man in Westeros.”

“Our Queen knows how to pick them; first it was a frightening Dothraki leader, then an arrogant sellsword, now a brooding king who would rather face the ‘white walkers’ than talk to a woman about his feelings,” Tyrion laughed, “When will you get your chance, Jorah?”

Jorah smiled and couldn’t resist laughing.

It took awhile, but they eventually calmed down from the laughter before Davos started, “But, trust me, with the way those two look at each other, it’s only a matter of time before they end up doing something about it.”

"Stark and Targaryen; Fire and Ice, has a nice ring to it," Tyrion added, drinking from his cup.

_Indeed, it did._


End file.
